


Case 28: The Adventure Of The Cricklewood Brewery (1881)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [37]
Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Beer, Destiel - Freeform, Divorce, Johnlock - Freeform, London, M/M, Poisoning, Politics, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-08-08 22:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16438187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ Who on earth would want to poison a town's beer? Holmes investigates and uncovers dark dealings in the brewing industry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NovemberKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberKai/gifts).



_[Narration by Doctor John Watson, M.D.]_

I considered myself conservative in many things in life and as I was fast approaching the end of my twenties I was already finding myself looking disapprovingly at the young generation, an act usually swiftly followed by the knowledge that someone with blue eyes and impossible hair was likely smirking at me again. Or worse, doing that not-smirk of his that was always followed by a disarming smile when I looked at him suspiciously! Harrumph!

Today, I felt, our latest clients were pushing matters a little too far. Two young ladies neither of whom could have been much more than twenty years of age, but their dress sense.... seriously, how had they managed to walk here without being shouted at in the street? Miss Shirley Fenton was fairly reasonably attired in what were most clearly work clothes but Miss Lavinia Faith was actually wearing _trousers!_ And a jumper top with a letter 'L' engraved on it. Honestly, some women these days!

And there was the not-smirk again! I harrumphed to myself and did not pout at all, whatever anyone later said.

“Thank you for seeing us Mr. Holmes”, Miss Fenton began. “We have come to you today about the story in the newspaper.”

“Which one?” Holmes asked looking more vexed than usual. The grocery delivery had been short the day before and although he had of course gotten all my bacon as well as his own he now knew that there was relatively little bacon in the house. And even the promise of a fry-up for dinner had not improved his mood.

“The Cricklewood poisoning”, Miss Faith said, looking at Holmes as if she found it hard to believe that he was really any sort of detective. I could understand that I supposed; he did not look his best after....

Ye Gods, she was simpering at him! I seethed but said nothing, despite yet another provoking not-smirk from someone who I did not like any more.

“We both work at the Six Shots Brewery in the town”, Miss Fenton said, looking in surprise at her friend's sudden attack of doe-eyedness. “It was the only brewery in the area until recently when a second place opened up on the other side of the town. The Gopher Brewery Company is one of the larger breweries and they clearly want to drive us out of business.”

“What are the taverns like in Cricklewood?” Holmes asked. “Free or tied?”

_(To my foreign readers I should explain at this point that 'free houses' did not, most unfortunately, serve free beer otherwise.... one can imagine the consequences if they had. They were 'free' in that they stocked the products of more than one brewery which in my opinion was all well and good. Tied houses on the other hand only stocked one company's products; one presumes they received some sort of discount for depriving their customers of choice. Then again some beers were an acquired taste; I had had some pints during our adventures which had made me start up a notebook labelled 'Beers To Avoid In Future')._

“Mostly free”, Miss Fenton said, “but this new company is trying to persuade them to become tied and to not stock our products. And this case of people being ill after drinking our beer – it is all very bad.”

“Such persuasion is unlawful, surely?” I asked.

“Unfortunately it is not”, Holmes said. “Freedom of choice applies to the tavern owners as well, and they can choose whom they wish to buy from. Although if the incentives offered to them were too great then the courts and perhaps even the newspapers might take a dim view.”

He looked expectantly at Miss Faith, who blushed at being caught mid-simper. Honestly, what was it with the fellow? He looked like he had just come a distant second in a contest with a tornado and yet women (and annoying debatably handsome Cornish fishermen) always looked at him as if he was the last slice of pie in the dish!

Miss Faith blushed and pulled herself together. There was definitely a simper in there. I barely avoided an eye-roll.

“We were hoping that you might look into this and see if there is anything illegal”, she said. “You see, Shirley and I are trying to save up so we can emigrate to the United States and start a restaurant there; we have cousins over there who would help. But if our brewery is forced to close we shall find it difficult to get other work.”

Holmes looked at her shrewdly. Mercifully at least that stopped her simpering. For now at least.

“Ladies working in such a place is in itself unusual”, he observed. 

The look continued. Both women fidgeted. Miss Faith broke first.

“Lady Howson!”

We both looked at her in surprise. Then – and I should have known he would do it – Holmes looked inquiringly at me. I sighed but answered.

“Lady Mary Howson is the wife of the Cabinet member Sir George”, I said, thinking that if he mentioned my very occasional glancing at the social pages on the previous few instances when I had just happened to be passing an open newspaper and if I had time, then there would be Pouting. “He holds only a junior post but has several friends in the Lords so is quite influential. He is not popular to put it mildly.”

“You might add that he is a bigoted, racist, preening misogynist pig!” Miss Fenton put in bitterly. “His poor wife cannot stand him, especially the way in which he constantly puts women down. Setting up and running a small brewery which employs only women was her act of telling him where to shove it!”

Holmes frowned.

“This is an added difficulty”, he said. “Unless....”

He trailed off and thought for a few moments, then smiled.

“I will investigate this matter for you both”, he said. “This Sir George sounds a most unpleasant fellow and I think that his wife – and you – deserve that the Six Shots Brewery succeeds. If you leave us a card, then I will contact you both when I have news.”

The ladies looked surprised at their success but duly did so and departed, although not without another longing simper from Miss Faith that earned her an eye-roll from her friend. And why did none of them ever simper at _me?_ What was I, chopped liver?

There was another not-smirk in the vicinity. Harrumph!

֍

Holmes summonsed a boy and dispatched a telegram, presumably with regards to the ladies' case, then asked if I would like to take a walk.

“All right”, I said. “Where to?”

“I wish to send a telegram.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“But you just did”, I objected. He smiled knowingly.

“This matter involves a government minister”, he said.

“So?”

“So”, he said, “the assistant behind the counter at the post office across the road is being paid by my brother Bacchus to inform him every time I send something interesting.”

I stared at him in shock.

“He is spying on you?” I exclaimed.

“Indeed”, Holmes said. “And I would quite like not to be here when he arrives in a total panic about half an hour from now, which he will given the distances involved. A nice walk around the Outer Circle of the Park should give him plenty of time to sit here and panic.”

“But why would he panic?” I asked.

“Because the message I sent from the local post office concerned a potential love child of Mr. Gladstone, our esteemed prime minister!” he grinned. “Coming?”

I _knew_ that there was a reason I kept him around.

“Indeed!” he muttered as I got my things.

The annoying mind-reading thing apart, that was!

֍

We had a most enjoyable walk, even more so in the knowledge that a certain lounge-lizard of a brother would be champing at the bit when we eventually made it back. There may have been one or two (maybe even eight) arguably unnecessary detours into shops, but I thought three hours for a stroll was still acceptable. Especially when we arrived back to see a carriage waiting for us.

Holmes checked his watch before entering and I asked why.

“Mother is keeping an eye on Bacchus after some of his antics as of late”, he said. “And when she finds that he has been spying on me, she will _not_ be pleased.”

“You would tell on him?” I asked in mock horror.

“Like a shot!” he grinned.

֍


	2. Chapter 2

We duly mounted to our rooms to find them occupied by someone whose face just begged to be used as target practice. Mr. Bacchus Holmes, government functionary and generally irritating annoyance, not in that order.

“What is this nonsense about you undertaking an investigation into our esteemed prime minister, Sher?” he demanded before we were even sat down.

Holmes stared coolly at him. I ratcheted up my hopes for sudden violence; I knew that he hated that name. Our visitor scowled but gave in.

“Sherlock”, he amended grumpily.

The stare continued. Our unwelcome visitor ground his teeth in frustration.

 _Please?”_ he said with absolutely no sincerity whatsoever.

“You will have to work on your manners, Bacchus”, Holmes said dryly. “What investigation are you talking about?”

“I have heard that you are looking at the Grand Old Man himself”, our visitor said haughtily.

“Or as Disraeli called him that time, God's Only Mistake!” I muttered. 

That earned me a sharp glare. Holmes sighed.

“I have it on good authority that one of the most senior Cabinet members has a love-child that they have actually acknowledged but have paid to keep secret”, he said. “But naturally I wish to investigate further to make sure. Besides Bacchus, you know politics. If I dig further, who knows what else I might find?”

Our visitor visibly shuddered.

“Who is it?” he demanded.

“All I can tell you is that he is one of the most senior members”, I said. “I suppose that I could tell you more – but that tiresome tendency of yours when it comes to deliberately using a name that you know I do not like – no, you can remain in ignorance until I am ready. You can spend the time acquiring some manners; Lord alone knows you need them.”

He scowled at us both but clearly knew that he was going to get nowhere and swept from the room. I opened the window to get rid of his terrible _eau de cologne_ in which he had taken presumably a bath in that morning. Most probably at the taxpayers' expense.

“Which Cabinet member was it?” I asked.

“None of them”, Holmes grinned. “But he can spend a fruitless few days panicking while we sort out this Cricklewood case.”

He really was terrible. I liked him.

֍

A few days passed and Holmes only received about twenty frantic telegrams from a certain brother. I am not sure of the exact amount although I do know how many he answered. Nought. And he also sent off three inquiries about various senior government ministers from the post office in the knowledge that his brother would find out about them.

He was so bad!

Monday came around again and we had a visitor to Cramer Street. Lord George Howson.

“Fellows at the club said you could sort this sort of thing out”, he said bluntly. “I need a woman silenced.”

I noted that he had not even asked Holmes for help, just assuming that he would get it as of right. The English nobility were a good bunch overall but there were still some bad apples in the barrel. Holmes smiled languidly.

“I am a consulting detective”, he pointed out, “not a hired assassin, Sir George. What pray has this woman done to upset you so?”

“She claims her young boy is mine, and that she has proof”, he said.

 _Is_ the child yours, may I ask?” Holmes said.

Our visitor spluttered at that. I could guess the answer before he came out with it.

“I paid her to keep silent”, he grumbled, “but now she is threatening to go public and ruin me!”

“Oh dear”, Holmes sighed. “That _is_ bad!”

“What do you mean?” our unpleasant visitor asked.

“If you paid her then I am sure she has kept receipts of all the transactions”, Holmes said. “She can easily go to the bank and demand to know the person behind the account.”

“They would never tell her that!” he said forcibly.

“They might”, Holmes said, “especially given the horrible publicity that could otherwise ensue. A bank that was seen as defending someone merely because they misused a lady of a lower class.... it would not look good. The Thunderer would be Most Displeased and the bank would likely lose many customers until it came to heel..”

Our visitor looked at Holmes curiously.

“How did you know Fenella is lower-class?” he asked.

“I rather assumed that it was your former secretary to whom you are referring”, Holmes said. “The one who had to leave unexpectedly a couple of years back. Or so your wife said.”

For all his ruddy complexion Sir George Howson turned white incredibly quickly.

“You spoke to the wife?” he said tremulously.

“I was making inquiries into a quite separate matter”, Holmes said, “concerning two ladies who feared they might be about to lose their employment. You can imagine my surprise when I found out that the person behind their employer's sudden difficulties was none other than _you_ , sir.”

Our visitor stared at him in shock.

“Minutes from the meeting of the G.V.B. Brewery Company showed that they had had no interest in expanding into the town of Cricklewood until _you_ purchased a whole block of shares in the company”, Holmes said. “That seemed more than coincidental so I dug further. Shortly before you made that purchase you had employed a private investigator to dig into your wife's affairs, presumably seeking for evidence that would raise the possibility of a divorce. You found that she was behind the small Six Shots Brewery Company in that Middlesex town so you set out to ruin it and, hopefully, her. Much as it is against their beliefs to discuss a client's details, your investigator was so shocked at your subsequent antics that he waived that rule and told me about you.”

“Wait a damn minute....”

“Then there are the three people who were allegedly poisoned after drinking six Shots beer”, Holmes continued. “Two of them claimed that they were still unwell - except that when it was made clear to them that they would have to face an examination by a police doctor, they all decided to follow dear Lazarus and recover with amazing speed. And you have also been behind several financial inducements to persuade taverns in the town to become tied houses and to stop selling Six Shots beer. That in itself is not strictly illegal but I do not think even the mighty Thunderer will be considering legal niceties when they fall on this story.”

Sir George somehow contrived to turn even paler.

“You would not tell them!” he said, his voice quavering now. “That would ruin me.”

“Then I suggest you refrain from looking at any evening papers when they come out today”, I said. “And you might like to think twice about going home. A full letter detailing all your foul actions was delivered by registered post to your wife” - he looked pointedly at his watch - “about ten minutes ago. By now she should have finished reading it and is no doubt considering what to do next. I have advised that she see her lawyer.”

The minister opened his mouth but nothing came out. He knew he had been defeated. He stood slowly to his feet, gave us each one last hateful glare and slouched from the room.

֍

Miss Faith and Miss Fenton were understandably delighted at the way that things had turned out, and some years later they did decamp to the United States where they opened their restaurant and made a great success of it. Lady Howson's brewery went from strength to strength especially after she pretty much took her husband to the cleaner's over her divorce. He was compelled to resign from the government in disgrace and tried to flee the country to avoid his creditors, only to be brought back and jailed until his ruined financial affairs were sorted out. I doubt that anyone shed a tear for him.

֍


End file.
